


Indulgence

by Emospritelet



Series: Original Sin [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Consent Issues, Demon/Human Relationships, Do not repost on any site, F/M, He tells her he's a demon but she doesn't think he's serious, Mildly Dubious Consent, Misunderstandings, Oral Sex, Rumbelle Monsterfuckers' Ball 2019 (Once Upon a Time), Smut, although knowing Belle the demon thing would only turn her on, and her knowledge of that fact, because she thinks he's human, incubus!Gold, so yeah I used the dubcon tag for safety, specifically around her ability to get pregnant from all the sex, why would she after all?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-02-07 10:17:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21456430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emospritelet/pseuds/Emospritelet
Summary: Belle French has been fascinated with the enigmatic Mr Gold ever since their first meeting in her book store. She decides to do the brave thing and ask him out. Mr Gold is only too happy to agree. But is he all that he seems? And is a pleasant evening all he wants to give her?
Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold
Series: Original Sin [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1515779
Comments: 46
Kudos: 88





	Indulgence

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this damn thing in the first week of September, but being sick for weeks really affected my smut writing capabilities. So here it is, far far later than planned!

Gold made his way slowly down the side street, the brass-handled cane he used tapping out a steady rhythm on the cracked stones. It was a dull, grey day, approaching dusk, but he still wore sunglasses with brown-tinted lenses, keeping what glare there was from his sensitive eyes. He much preferred to do business after dark, but humans were predictably reluctant in these matters. A cyclist passed at speed, spinning wheels throwing dead leaves and dirt into the air, and he stepped back calmly on one foot, the movement showing his lack of true need for the cane he carried. It was an affectation, a tool to make him seem smaller, less threatening. He wasn’t sure if it worked all that well, as the humans were still wary of him, but he had used the thing for years, and so he stuck with it. Besides, it looked good.

He paused outside an old three-storey building, looking it up and down as he gathered his thoughts. The place had been built in the 1920s, and held its own against its taller, more modern neighbours. A painted sign hung above the door, the curling letters black on a white background: _ Avonlea Books _. A stone step marked the entrance, windows framed in pale blue displaying a collection of children’s books with shining covers, all concerning witches, vampires or ghosts. There was a display of paper leaves in red and gold, a carved pumpkin, and a stuffed black cat with green glass eyes curled beside an iron cauldron. Silver-grey strands of fake spider web stretched across the window, and Gold smiled to himself. Miss French was ready for Halloween, it seemed.

He had met the young bookstore owner quite by chance, when she had ordered a rare copy of _ Persuasion _ from him for her personal collection. Her initial email querying its provenance had been detailed and thorough, displaying a deep knowledge of the author and a true passion for reading. They had corresponded a few times before she had agreed to purchase the item, and she had displayed a wit and intelligence that had made him want to continue their interactions. She had intrigued him, had pricked at the depths of his dark soul in ways that he had rarely experienced, and he had found himself thinking of her at the strangest times. He had been due to travel to New York on other business, and so he had decided to deliver the book personally.

Miss French, when they met, had almost stolen his breath. She was delightful: a tiny ball of sunshine with the sort of pale beauty and inner fire that he found most alluring in humans, and could rarely find. She had made him tea, drunk as they sat in her tiny shop and discussed books, her scent making his mouth water and his skin burn with desire. The brief touch of her hand on his arm had sent shivers through him, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to use his magic to sneak his way into her dreams and let her feel the pleasure he could give her. She was breathtaking.

He decided then and there that he would see her again, and so he had sought books that he knew she would like, taking the liberty of emailing her with news of his latest acquisitions in the hope of securing another meeting. He had travelled to New York on four separate occasions for the purpose, and Miss French greeted him with warm tones and a slight blush in her cheeks every time. Her scent had changed from that first meeting, becoming rounder, more musky, drifting into his nose and making his heart thud in his chest with the urge to taste her. She wanted him, he could tell. Perhaps as much as he wanted her.

He had already left his mark on her, a warning to others who might desire her that she was already claimed, that she was under his protection as long as the mark lasted. It was done by a press of his lips, a damp circle on the back of her hand as he took his leave when they last met. It amused him no end that the gesture was seen as old-fashioned and gentlemanly. Certainly Miss French had blushed adorably when he had done it, and stammered out her own goodbye. To others of his kind, though, it was a warning. One with serious consequences, if ignored.

Putting his mark on her also had the effect of opening up her mind. It wouldn’t create desire, and he would never have bothered if he thought she found him repulsive. But she was attracted to him, he knew that very well. His mark would let her desire take form, would let her darkest fantasies come to life in her mind. She would dream of him, although not the true dreams in which he could touch her, in which he could taste her. Denying himself that pleasure was exquisite agony.

He thought of her waking in the night, gasping and reaching between her legs to give herself the pleasure that the dreams promised. It was enough to make him swell and harden in his pants, and he licked his lips at the images his mind conjured. He wanted to touch her himself, to make her scream with pleasure. He wanted to _ taste _ her. The encounter with Lacey only hardened his resolve. She was the one, and he would have her.

In the end, it was she that called him. She was looking to buy additional stock for her little shop, and wanted to sell an early edition of _ Middlemarch_. He was more than happy to take it off her hands. In the circumstances. 

It had been two days before Lacey had visited him for their coupling, and knowing that he would have another purpose to his trip, Gold had delayed giving Belle a date for his arrival in New York. He left Storybrooke not long after Lacey had wandered out of his life, driving south in his Cadillac, travelling through the night and checking into his favourite hotel. He called Miss French that morning, informing her that he would be visiting the shop at five that evening to view the book.

She greeted him with a wide smile and a deep blush that made her blue eyes shine. A white shirt clung to her curves, cap sleeves baring her arms beneath a little red cardigan and the top three buttons undone to reveal the hollow between her breasts. Her legs were bare beneath the flared black skirt she wore, high heeled shoes giving her a few extra inches. He was surprised to see it in the winter weather, but the sight of her naked skin made his mouth water as he imagined running his tongue up her inner thigh, tugging her underwear aside to taste her. He licked his lips, and wondered if she could sense the desire he felt for her, burning deep in his belly. Her hand shook a little as he took it, and he bent to kiss her knuckles, breathing in her scent. There was an edge to it, a need, and he felt himself smile before he straightened up. Perhaps this would be easier than he had thought.

He pretended to study the book she handed him, making a show of bargaining over the price, although he had never intended to give her anything less than what she asked, and when the deal was done, he turned his attention to the true purpose of his visit.

“Well, Miss French,” he said, setting the book carefully in his briefcase. “It appears our business is concluded. A pity. I’ve enjoyed our conversation.”

“So have I,” she said. “How long are you in the city?”

Gold showed his teeth.

“I’ll be leaving tomorrow,” he said, closing his briefcase with a click. “The shop won’t run itself, alas.”

“That’s a shame,” she murmured, and he tilted his head. 

“Well, if you should ever wish to dispose of other rare editions, I’d be obliged if you could give me first refusal. I’d offer you a very fair price.”

“Oh, I’m sure you would,” she said hastily, blushing a little. “It’s just - well, if this is your last night in the city, perhaps - perhaps we could have a drink?”

“A drink?” he said, allowing himself a tiny smile. “That sounds perfect.”

“Actually, I’m - I’m closing up now,” she said. “If you’re free.”

Gold straightened up, fingers flexing on the cane handle.

“I’m all yours.”

* * *

Belle had never met anyone quite like Mr Gold, and her instant and unexpected attraction to him had caused her some initial concern. She tried to make dating decisions based on personality traits and common interests rather than looks, but told herself firmly that this hadn’t changed with the arrival of the mysterious antique dealer. Mr Gold was, after all, intelligent, well-read, and with an appreciation for the rare and beautiful. Not that he wasn’t handsome; he had deep brown eyes and soft hair that hung around a sharp jaw and high cheekbones. But there was something else that drew her to him, her thoughts straying to him at the strangest times. There was an air about him, a heavy energy that made her skin tingle, that had made her breath catch at the first touch of his hand. Yes, she had to admit that she found him very attractive indeed.

She had wanted to ask him out the first time they had met, but had held off, thinking that impulsiveness wasn’t always one of her more admirable traits. He was much older than her, and she had told herself that he was probably married, although he wore no wedding ring. Still, it had always felt as though there was something between them. A weight to the atmosphere whenever he entered the shop, a spark of electricity in the air around them. The strength of her attraction was a little alarming, and so she had waited, all the while keeping an ear out for any mention of a wife or partner, anything that might suggest he was already taken. He wasn’t all that forthcoming with personal information, something she hoped to remedy.

The last time he had left the shop, he had kissed her hand with a slow press of soft lips. It was a gesture she would ordinarily have wrinkled her nose at, but which had made her heart thump and a heavy, insistent throb of desire start between her thighs. She had dreamed of him that night, a gloriously vivid dream in which he peeled off every stitch she wore and made her scream with pleasure. It made her blush to think of it, and his tiny, knowing grin when he had arrived that evening had almost made her suspect that he knew the erotic paths her mind had taken. It made negotiating the price for the book somewhat longer than it needed to be, but she couldn’t help thinking that he had gone easy on her, nonetheless. She told herself that asking someone for a drink was a normal, healthy part of adult life, and there was no need to turn it into a big deal. She also told herself that she had no intention of sleeping with him, even as she knew it was a blatant lie.

Once they left the shop, she took him to a bar around the corner, a small, humid place with good wine and terrible restrooms. Roni, the black-haired bartender, flashed Belle her usual wide smile, but eyed Gold with a suspicious, narrow-eyed stare as she set a bottle of wine and two glasses in front of them. She frowned at him as she turned away, and Belle was puzzled by her sudden hostility. Gold seemed unfazed, carrying the bottle to a nearby table as Belle brought the glasses. He pulled out her chair, waiting for her to sit before pushing it back, and then took his own seat. Roni passed again, still shooting him disapproving looks, and there was a tiny smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Don’t think much of the service in this place,” he said lightly.

“I don’t get it, she’s usually so friendly,” mused Belle. “Do you know her?”

“No,” he said, pouring them each a glass of wine. “I shouldn’t worry about it. She’s probably worked out that I’m not really human.”

Belle giggled, raising a brow.

“Oh really?” she drawled. “Well, I suppose it is almost Halloween.”

“Here’s my costume,” he quipped, running a hand up and down his slim form.

“Terrifying.”

“I thought so.”

She grinned, reaching for her drink, and shook back her hair as red wine swirled in her glass, dark as blood. Gold reached for his own glass, taking a sip and setting it down.

“So what are you?” she asked. “Vampire? Werewolf?”

“Certainly not,” he said seriously. “I’m an ancient demon, proficient in the dark arts.”

“With a weakness for old books and antiques?” she teased, and he shrugged.

“We all have our hobbies.”

“I suppose even ancient demons have to pass the time between sacrifices,” she added, and he wrinkled his nose.

“Well, it’s been some time since I attended a thoroughly debauched ritual,” he admitted. “Getting a little old for that sort of thing.”

Belle giggled.

“Do demons ever get tired of doing demonic things?”

“Not really.” He took a sip of his wine, grinning at her. “It’s more a shift in priorities. I believe you humans are the same. As we get older, we start to focus on the more important things in life.”

“Defiling virgins out, family time in?”

Gold set down his glass with a smile.

“In order to do that, one must first have a family.”

“And you think having a drink with me is gonna fix that?” she asked. He returned her grin, spreading his fingers in a fan.

“Clearly it’s all part of my evil demonic plan.”

“Strange that _ I _ asked _ you _ out, then.”

“Perhaps you’re drawn to the darkness.”

It was said in a low voice, a throaty rumble in his throat that made her heart thump. Belle chuckled a little nervously, taking a sip of wine. It was good, warming her throat, and she took another, larger sip, sneaking a look at him over the rim of her glass. Something _ was _ pulling her to him, an alluring sense of mystery, of hunger. Perhaps it was darkness, after all. Odd, then, that she trusted him. Foolish, perhaps, given that she barely knew the man, but then she had always had a sense about people. His eyes caught hers, a sudden gleam of gold within their dark brown depths, and she shook her head, dropping her gaze. 

“Where were we before we entered this bar and went down this very bizarre path?” she said. “Oh yes, you were telling me what a terrible recluse you are.”

He looked amused at that.

“Ask any of my neighbours.”

Belle pursed her lips.

“Maybe I will,” she said coyly. “What’s your home town like?”

Gold sucked his teeth, setting down his glass and sitting back.

“Small enough that everyone wants to know your business,” he said. “Large enough that they never quite manage it.”

Belle giggled at that, taking another sip of her wine.

“Even after two years, I feel like I don’t really know anyone here,” she confessed. “Big cities are kind of impersonal, aren’t they? I have a few regulars, of course, but it’s not the same as friends. I mean, I love running the shop, don’t get me wrong, but it’s kind of lonely at times.”

“I see.” He continued to watch her, fingers stroking the stem of his glass. “And what did you hope for, when you came to this city?”

Belle could feel that her smile was somewhat rueful.

“I was hoping that the bookstore would be an amazing success and in five years’ time I’d have a chain of them and a beautiful loft apartment,” she said. “Now I’m mostly hoping that I can pay next month’s bills on time and have a little left over for a new pair of shoes.”

“A simple enough dream,” he said, taking a sip of his wine. “What about the rest? Friends? Family?”

Belle wrinkled her nose.

“My parents are both dead,” she said. “That’s how I got the shop. Dad left me a little money, so I figured I’d make a new start, in a new city.”

She chewed her lip, feeling sad, and took a drink to try to distract from her melancholy.

“What about you?” she asked, her voice cracking a little. “Do you live alone?”

“Yes.” He reached for his drink again. “You?”

“Oh, ever since I came here,” she said. “The apartment only has one bedroom.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to live alone.”

“True,” she agreed. “But I don’t seem to have much luck with relationships, to be honest.”

“I find that hard to imagine,” he said softly, and she shrugged awkwardly.

“Some people say I’m - odd,” she ventured. “That I’ll end up alone with my books and a dozen cats. I don’t know, maybe they’re right.”

Gold smirked, and raised his glass.

“Sounds like something to celebrate,” he suggested. “Fuck the lot of them.”

She giggled at that, and clinked her glass against his. He took a sip, setting down his glass.

“So,” he said. “No enormous hulking boyfriend waiting outside to attack me for having a drink with you?”

“God, no!” she said fervently. “I mean, I’ve dated, but it never usually gets past the second night. Maybe I’m too picky. Or too weird.”

“You think you’re weird?”

“You heard the crazy cat lady thing, right?” She raised her glass. “Scared yet?”

“Certainly not.”

Gold took a sip of his wine, the tip of his tongue sweeping across his lips to catch a stray droplet, dark as blood. His eyes met hers, and she felt her breath catch in her throat a little.

“And what about children?” he asked softly. “Do you want to be a mother?”

“Yes,” she said immediately. “I guess I want it all. A job I love, a happy marriage and a couple of kids, and - and it occurs to me that this really isn’t a first date topic of conversation...”

Her voice trailed off lamely, but he smiled, settling back in his chair and spreading his legs a little wider.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said easily. “I find it’s better to be open about these things. Cuts down on the time-wasters.”

Belle laughed a little nervously, reaching for her wine.

“Careful,” she warned. “I’ll be telling you all my secrets soon.”

“Well, you already know mine,” he said, and she sent him an amused look.

“Of course,” she said earnestly. “How could I forget the professional defiler of virgins?”

“Retired,” he corrected, raising his glass, and she giggled.

“At least you haven’t run for the hills,” she noted, and his mouth twitched.

“I have no intention of running anywhere.”

“Good.”

There was a moment of silence, and she took another drink to cover it. Gold was watching her, fingers absently caressing the rim of his wine glass. The fingers were long and slender, his touch delicate, and she wondered if he was as careful with everything he handled. A heat was building in her, the throb of her pulse beating low down in her groin, and she squeezed her thighs together. One corner of his mouth pulled upwards, as though he could read her mind, and she tried to keep her thoughts out of the gutter. Gold put his head to the side.

“You said you didn’t date,” he said, and Belle pulled a face.

“Not really,” she said. “Nothing that counts as a - as a relationship.”

“And is a relationship what you want?” he asked. His voice was low and lilting. Soothing. A velvet tongue caressing her skin and making her shiver.

“I - it might - it might be nice,” she stammered, feeling a blush rise in her cheeks. “To have someone, I mean. Everyone needs someone, right?”

He smiled faintly, his eyes gleaming.

“You’re asking the wrong person.”

“Because the mysterious Mr Gold spends all his time alone, right?”

“That’s right.”

“Then why are you here?” she countered, and his smile widened.

“I think we both know the answer to that.”

He took a slow sip of his wine, his eyes catching and holding hers, making the blush in her cheeks deepen and an ache start low in her belly. Her heart was thudding in her chest, her skin prickling, as though it was too tight, and she sucked in a breath as he took another drink. He licked his lips again, and set down his glass.

“Do you live nearby, Miss French?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said breathlessly. “I live above the shop. Why?”

Gold shook back his hair, the tip of his tongue running over his lower lip as his eyes locked onto hers.

“I’d like to take you to bed,” he said quietly. “If you’re willing.”

“Yes! I mean—” She closed her eyes. “I mean - wow, that’s - that’s very - uh - direct.”

A slow smile spread across his face, and she caught a gleam of gold as his teeth showed.

“You said yes.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

She was blushing hard now, and she grabbed at her wine to hide it, almost choking as she took a large swallow.

“I - I don’t usually do this after I make a sale, you know,” she said, and he smiled.

“Nor do I.”

“So…” She gave him a rueful grin. “Are the two of us just a couple of book sluts, or what?”

Gold burst out laughing at that, his eyes gleaming.

“Imagine what could happen if I showed you my library,” he said, his voice a low, pleasant growl, and she pursed her lips.

“Telling me you have a library is serious foreplay, you know.”

He laughed again, a deep, rich sound that made her belly clench, and he reached for his glass, still smiling. She watched as he drank the last of the wine in it and set it down. A droplet ran down the side, a bead of deep red tracking across the base to spread around its edge. Gold licked his lips, raising his chin a little.

“Ready when you are.”

Belle blinked.

“What, you want to go now?”

He shrugged lazily.

“Why wait?”

_ Why indeed? _

“Okay,” she said, and drank the last of her own wine, setting the glass down with a clink. “Let’s go.”

It was cold outside, and Belle shivered, leaning against him as she took his arm and they made their way back towards the shop. That atmosphere was still between them, heavy and electric, and her hands shook as she turned the key in the lock to let them into her apartment. It was as though she could feel his breath on the back of her neck, the brush of his fingers on her skin.

The apartment was dark, and she dropped her keys into the little pot she kept on the table by the door and went to flick on the lamp that stood by the couch. She shrugged out of her coat, sucking in a breath as she felt Gold take it from her and draw it down her arms. Her skin was tingling, her heart thumping, and she felt his cool breath by her ear, the closeness of him making her belly pull and tighten. There was a soft thump from the couch as he draped the coat over its arm, and she gasped as she felt his hands at her waist.

“Bedroom?” he murmured, his lips brushing the nape of her neck, and Belle shivered.

“Yeah - uh - just give me a minute,” she said, and pulled out of his grip.

She trotted to the bedroom, rushing to turn on the lamp on the nightstand, hurriedly snatching up the few clothes scattered on the floor and stuffing them in the drawers. Her heart was thumping hard in anticipation, and she kicked off her shoes and stacked them next to the dresser, out of the way. She shrugged out of the cardigan, tossing it aside, and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright, her chest heaving. Excitement, and a touch of nervousness. It was exhilarating. She tugged the sheets straight, smoothing a hand over the midnight blue coverlet.

“Come in!” she called.

When Gold entered the room, he had taken off his overcoat and suit jacket, a waistcoat over the shirt of dark red silk. His shoes and socks were gone, leaving bare toes that sank into the thick pile of the rug by the end of the bed. A heavy, throbbing darkness seemed to swell and grow around him, blooming outward to wrap around her and pull her to him, and she stepped forward to run her hands up his chest, rising up on her toes as he bent his head to kiss her.

Gold parted her lips with his, tongue snaking into her mouth as a low moan came from her. The taste of her was sweet and heady. Ripe. He ran his hands down her back and over her hips, cupping her rear and pulling her tight against him, and Belle moaned again, fingers stroking through his hair. It felt good to kiss her, better than he had expected, and he had thought about it a lot over the past few weeks. He tugged her against him, knowing she would feel the hardness of him against her, and she moaned again and moved her hips a little, rubbing against him and sending jolts of sensation through him. He groaned, low in his throat, hands gripping her buttocks, and her fingers twisted in his hair.

She had risen up on her toes, and he slid his hands up to her waist, finding the zipper of her skirt and pulling it down before pushing the skirt over her hips to fall around her ankles. Belle kicked it away from her, and he broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to hers as his hands moved around her body to pluck at the buttons of her shirt. Their lips were wet, her nose brushing his and her breath cool against his mouth, and her fingers stroked against his scalp as he unfastened the buttons one by one, down to her navel, letting the shirt gape open to expose her pale skin and the lace cups of her bra. She wore tiny high-leg panties in black mesh, and he could smell her arousal, a heady, musky scent that made him want to drop to his knees and taste her.

Her fingers had left his hair and were fumbling with the knot of his tie, and he helped her undo it, pulling the length of silk from around his throat and tossing it aside. Belle’s hands were shaking a little as she opened up his waistcoat, and he shrugged out of it, sending it to join his tie. He pressed his brow to hers again, tilting his head a little to capture her mouth with his, and she moaned as he kissed her, as his tongue gently stroked against hers. He let his hands fall to her waist, stroking upwards over soft skin to cup her breasts, his thumbs rubbing over the taut peaks of her nipples where they pushed against the lace of her bra.

His hands slid upwards, pushing the shirt from her shoulders, and she dropped her arms and let it fall to the floor behind her. She was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling, and he slipped his thumbs under the straps of her bra, drawing them down her arms as he turned his head and pressed his mouth to her neck. Belle rose up on her toes with a tiny cry, and he groaned as he sucked on her soft skin, tasting her. He reached around to find the clasp of the bra, unhooking it with a flick of his fingers and a tiny curl of magic, and she shook it from her, baring the pale mounds of her breasts with their hardened nipples.

He kissed lower, inhaling her scent, the delicate perfume of arousal that was surrounding her, and his mouth trailed over her breast to fasten over her nipple, sucking it in between his lips. Belle moaned, running her hands through his hair, and he growled as his hands cupped her, his tongue swirling over the taut peak. He kissed across to the left breast, tongue circling the nipple with a glistening trail of saliva before he sucked it into his mouth, and she let her head roll back with a gasp, her fingers tugging at his hair. Gold let the nipple slip from his mouth, straightening up as he kissed his way back up to nuzzle along her jaw to her ear, feeling a shiver go through her.

“Get on the bed,” he growled. “I want to taste you.”

She pulled back from him, her eyes flicking to his, her lips full and moist from his kisses. He watched as she climbed onto the bed in her underwear, lying back against the pillows with her knees up, her toes clutching at the dark blue blanket. He unbuttoned his shirt, watching her, one hand on her belly as it rose and fell with her breath. Her dark hair was spread out on the pillows, her eyes closed and lips parted. _ So beautiful. _

He shrugged out of the shirt, tossing it aside before taking off his pants and underwear. His cock was hard, his balls full and heavy, and he knelt on the end of the bed, watching Belle’s eyelids flutter as he put his hands on her knees and slowly pushed them apart. She opened her legs a little, letting him slide his hands up her inner thighs, and he inhaled deeply, drawing the scent of her into his lungs. It made his mouth water, and he bent to kiss her, the skin of her thighs soft as silk against his lips. Belle moaned as he kissed higher, his fingers stalking upwards to grasp the waistband of her panties. She lifted her hips a little, allowing him to draw them down, and he shifted backwards off the bed to pull them off at her feet and toss them away.

Belle had been beautiful fully-clothed, but naked she was perfection. His eyes roamed over her curves, the peaks of her breasts and the hollow of her navel, drawn downwards to the glistening pink folds of her sex. He licked his lips as he knelt between her legs, her scent pulling him to her, filling him with an urge to thrust his cock deep inside her and give her all that he had. He ran his hands up her thighs, pushing them apart, and bent to trail his nose up from her knee, following her delicious scent. She let out a tiny moan as his lips brushed her skin, as his hair stroked against her, and he pressed his lips to the glistening cleft between her legs, letting out a low, guttural growl at the first taste of her arousal.

He could feel his true form trying to assert itself, his long tongue coiling in his mouth, eager to be inside her, his tail itching at the base of his spine, wanting to lash out and bind her to him. It had been a long time since he had forgotten himself enough to lose control, but it was surprisingly difficult to suppress the demon part of himself in the presence of all her beauty. His hands slipped beneath her buttocks, lifting her closer to his mouth as he got himself under control. Perhaps just a little of his true form. Perhaps just the tongue.

He let it curl from between his lips, long and tapered, flickering over her wet flesh. Belle gave a cry of pleasure, arching her back, and he groaned in response, her flavour bursting over his tongue. She tasted of salt and musk and the ripe sweetness that meant he had timed his seduction to perfection, and his balls ached with desire, heavy with the seed he carried. His tongue pushed inside her, tasting her, stroking against slick walls and pushing through soft flesh. His cock twitched, eager to get inside her, to push deep and squirt the seed into her. 

Drawing out the tongue, he gently slid a finger inside her, and she moaned, pushing her hips upwards. His tongue caressed her, delicately stroking against her clit as his finger thrust in and out, and Belle gasped, her fingers dragging through his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. She was whimpering, her body stiffening as her climax neared, and his tongue flickered rapidly until she let out a loud cry of pleasure, wet flesh clamping around his finger. He drew it out with a low groan, whitish fluid leaking from her, and his tongue slithered back inside to taste her bliss. His groan rumbled lower, a deep, bass growl as her flavour sent pulses of desire through his body to his groin. She was jerking and moaning, her fingers tugging at his hair, and he groaned again as he sucked the cum from her. She was ready.

He pressed kisses to her mound and down her inner thighs as he pulled back, and rose up on his knees, hands sliding up her thighs as he shifted forward to lean over her. Belle had closed her eyes, her cheeks flushed and her chest heaving. He leaned on the palms of his hands, shifting his body weight until he was pressed up against her, his cock achingly close to the wet flesh he longed to sink into. Belle’s eyes fluttered open, a slow smile spreading across her face, and she reached up to stroke his hair. Strands of it had were caught on his cheeks, sticky from her juices, and she brushed them back.

“That was amazing,” she murmured. “I hope you still have the energy for the rest of it.”

Gold showed his teeth.

“Oh, I won’t lack for energy, I assure you,” he said softly. “Although you might, by the time we’re done.”

“Confident, hmm?” Her eyes gleamed with amusement. “I like it.”

She slid a hand down between them, reaching between her legs to take him in hand, her warm palm curling around his cock and squeezing. It made him growl in pleasure, and Belle made a sound of approval. The hand moved, sliding lower, stroking against his balls, and her mouth opened as she sucked in a breath.

“Oh!” she whispered.

Her fingers stroked delicately, cupping his balls, tracing their shape, and he gritted his teeth, the pleasure of her touch exquisite. She grasped his cock again, lining them up, and her eyes flicked upwards to meet his. He could feel the heat of her against the head of his cock, soft, wet flesh cushioning it, waiting for him to open her up and thrust inside.

“Do you want this?” he asked softly. “Do you want what I can give you?”

“Yes!” she breathed.

He eased into her, letting out a low groan as he slid deep, as he pushed all the way into her. She was slick and hot and perfect, opening up to receive and hold him tightly, and he let his cock grow a little longer, the head pushing up against the firm wall of flesh that his tongue had explored. Belle had arched up into him, drawing up her knees to let him fill her completely, and he slid one hand beneath her lower back, tugging her close as he began to move his hips in long, slow circles, grinding against her, his cock sliding in and out of her slippery heat.

Belle moaned, letting her head roll back, eyes closed as she felt him move inside her. It felt incredible, every thrust of his hips sending a pulse of pleasure through her, making her cheeks flush and her skin hum. He seemed to be able to reach every part that drove her wild, and she enjoyed the warm solid feel of his body rubbing against her clit, his cock hard and thick inside her, a rigid shaft with its head stroking her in just the right spot. She let out a tiny cry, drawing her knees higher, letting him sink deeper, and he growled in response, his thrusts quickening a little.

She reached up to brush the hair from his eyes, sweat making his skin tacky against her fingertips. For a moment it was as though his eyes flashed gold, his gaze intense, but then he bent his head to kiss her, lips pulling at hers, his tongue snaking into her mouth to taste her. She clung to him, legs wrapping around his back, and he groaned into her mouth, his hips jerking as he thrust into her. She could feel pleasure rising up through her body again, a tide of bliss waiting to sweep over her, and she kissed him hungrily, chasing her climax, wanting to let it take them both.

Gold was lost in her, buried in her velvet heat with his tongue in her mouth and her legs wrapped around him, holding him tight. He wanted to let his human mask slip, to be his true self with her. He wanted to let his tail spring out and curl around them both, to let his wings fold a tent of warm leather around them, trapping their moist warmth and their mingled scents and the rhythmic sounds of their pleasure. It was impossible, of course, and so he concentrated on how she good she felt, on how sweet she tasted, on the slippery layer of sweat between their bodies and the sounds she made as he fucked her.

He pulled his mouth from hers with a wet, sucking noise, his breath coming hard as he felt his cock harden further, his climax nearing. There was the tingle of magic deep in his groin, spreading up from his balls, waiting to flow into her. He ran his hands up her body, cupping her breasts before sliding up her arms, his fingers threading through hers as he pushed her hands down into the pillows, and Belle moaned and arched up into him, squeezing his cock and sending a jolt of pleasure through him that made him gasp out an expletive.

_ “Fuck!” _

A smile curled the edges of her beautiful mouth, and he quickened his pace, the magic rising up, spreading through his groin, pulling the seed from his balls. A wave of pleasure rushed over him, and he came with a long, groaning cry, his cock pulsing, seed pouring into her in a burst of heat. Belle let out a loud cry, her flesh squeezing him, her body writhing against his as she came. Her flesh tugged at him, pulling the seed from him, drawing it deep, and he pumped his hips, letting her take as much as she could, letting it fill her. Her nails raked his back, a delicious pain mixed with his pleasure, and she jerked and moaned, her pale skin turned pink in her chest and cheeks, her dark curls awry.

His cock was still pulsing faintly, and he let his head hang low as he tried to catch his breath. She reached up to push lazy fingers through his hair, a slow, rhythmic stroking as he inhaled the scent of her, the heady perfume of her pleasure that had wound its way into his brain. The combination of her touch and her scent was almost soporific, making him want to purr contently, and he tried to shake it off, raising his head to grin down at her.

“Well well,” he said softly. “That was - unexpected.”

Belle giggled a little, her eyes sparkling, fingers still dancing over his scalp and making him shiver deliciously.

“You could say that,” she agreed. “You could also say it was amazing.”

“Oh, it was certainly that.”

He kissed her, feeling her legs loosen their grip around his waist and fall to the sides, smooth thighs rubbing against his hips. He was still hard inside her, and he let his lips pull at hers, wanting to stay there for a moment longer, buried within her. Belle stretched a little, pointing her toes. The movement made her squeeze his cock, and he let out a contented, rumbling growl. She reached up to cup his cheek, thumb rubbing over his lower lip.

“So,” she said. “You’re leaving tomorrow?”

“I am,” he confirmed. “As I said, the store won’t run itself.”

“Hmm.” Her fingers slid around to the nape of his neck, plucking at the soft strands of hair. “I guess that means you could stay here a little longer. If you wanted.”

Gold’s smile widened.

“I’d like that very much.”

He bent to kiss her, and she twined her arms around his neck, her tongue stroking against his as he rolled them onto their sides to pull her close. It wasn’t as though he needed to sleep, after all.

* * *

As the clock approached four, Gold tugged the knot of his tie tight around his throat, eyeing his reflection in the dresser’s mirror, his features shaded blue in the dim moonlight. In the bed behind him, Belle twitched and sighed in her sleep, rolling onto her back, and he turned slowly on the toes of his shoes to face her. The sheets had been pushed down to her waist, baring her breasts and belly, and he laid his palm on the flat of her stomach, smirking as he felt the spark of life inside her. He bent to kiss her, a brief press of his lips against her skin, giving her his protection once more. Her and the child.

Silently, he slipped from the bedroom, closing the door behind him and searching for his shoes and socks. Drawing on his coat, he fished in his wallet for a business card, a rectangle of thick cream card with his name and Maine address on. Hesitating only slightly, he wrote on the back in neat, slanting letters: _ Until we meet again x_.

He set the card on the hall table, where she would easily see it, and after a moment’s hesitation, swirled his fingers with a muttered incantation, conjuring a rose to lay beside it, its red petals studded with dew. He shook his head ruefully at the gesture, but he suspected Miss French would appreciate it. If not his leaving in the middle of the night. 

He tugged the coat around himself. The mirror near the front door threw his reflection back at him, and he smirked to himself as he straightened his collar. Time to leave the all-too-intriguing human with her books and her tea and her dazzling smile and her gentle touch. Time to return to the relative sanity of his solitary life, free of the distractions she offered. For now, at least. It was not the end. 

He slipped out of the apartment, heading down to the street below, the cold air sharp in his lungs as he set off back to his hotel. Ducking into the alleyway that led to the bar where they had met, he felt a prickle between his shoulder blades, and paused, his fingers tightening on the cane he held.

“Well, you may as well come out and stop lurking,” he said, and a figure appeared, sliding from the shadows as it took form. The dark-haired bartender. Roni. She smirked at him, one eyebrow quirking in amusement.

“So,” she said. “You fucked her, then.”

Gold smiled as he settled the cane between his legs, fingers flexing on the handle.

“A gentleman never tells.”

“Gentleman, my ass!” she said flatly. “You tell her who you really are?”

“Yes,” he said simply.

“And she believed you?”

“Probably not.”

“Hmm.”

She curled her lip, and he raised a brow.

“Are _ you _ gonna tell her?”

“What, you think I’m a traitor to my own kind?” she said levelly. “Your business is your own, just don’t do it in my neighbourhood again. I don’t have the energy to settle territorial disputes. Might blast your nuts off without thinking it through.”

“Well, thank you for the warning,” he said dryly. “I’ll be out of your hair in a few hours.”

“Good.”

“I imagine when I see her again, it’ll be on _my_ territory,” he added.

“When you see her _ again_?” She folded her arms, red lips curving in a grin. “You _ like _her!”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said stiffly. “It’s for the continuation of our kind, nothing more.”

“She’ll be disappointed.”

“I very much doubt that.”

“You _ clearly _don’t know her too well.”

“Are you telling me you do?”

She shrugged, grinning at him, and he could feel his irritation rise.

“You know, you could easily contribute to our dwindling numbers yourself, instead of giving me a hard time about it,” he snapped, and Roni snorted softly.

“I don’t think so,” she said, with feeling. “Can’t really get past the whole ‘having sex with men’ part.”

“What?” he said, bewildered. 

“Oh, I like girls,” she explained.

Gold stepped forward, feeling an unexpected surge of possessiveness.

“Miss French is under my protection,” he growled, and she rolled her eyes.

“I know _ that_, I can smell you all over her,” she snapped. “Besides, she’s not my type. I like blondes.”

He grunted, satisfied.

“Well, good luck with that.”

“Good luck to you too.”

He nodded cautiously, stepping around her and heading off.

“Be careful,” she called after him. “Humans can be unpredictable. You may find yourself making a deal you don’t understand.”

“Never happened before.”

“First time for everything,” she said. “I hear things in that bar. Get a lot of visitors from our world, and there’s always one of our kind who manages to lose out to the humans.”

“Well, it’s not gonna be me,” he said coldly.

“If you say so.”

His jaw tightened, but he walked on, feeling her eyes on his back. There was a low-level feeling of unease creeping through him, a sense that perhaps he had underestimated the balance of power, that he had made a fundamental error in his grand plan. He shook his head, dispelling the unwelcome doubts. Belle would do as he predicted, which meant that sooner or later, she would come to find him. If only for the briefest of moments, he would see her again.


End file.
